Haunting at Shanxi
by Off Brand Sir Bill
Summary: The fleet above Shanxi is broken, the turians victorious and the order to surrender has been passed down. Not everyone, not everything, has calmed down, however. A young girl needing to hunt witches, and the turians trying to understand a rapidly devolving situation, with both seeking to save the world with the limited perspective that they have.
1. Chapter 1

Erin sat in 'her" room, resting on the bunks, and she rested. There wasn't really all that much to do, honestly.

She wasn't sure what to think of her… was captors even the right word? Captors seemed more the sort of word that was used when talking about kidnappers, not whatever these aliens were.

She had never really thought about aliens.

Oh, when she was younger, before she had contracted, she had thought the idea of the mass relays and the technology taken from a dead civilization was pretty interesting, but well, she didn't quite have the fascination that her parents seemed to have with the idea.

Aliens existed.

They're all dead now.

Get over it.

Which also was not the correct response, since aliens apparently did, in fact, exist in the present term. It had started about a week ago, when a research team sent through the relay had failed to report back.

Even then, she had focused on her "job" to the point that it barely registered, until the announcement came that they were all to report to the bunkers blared over the loudspeakers.

She had been at school, and so she found herself being herded into the emergency bunkers that had been specifically built under the school.  
She couldn't help but be a bit annoyed at how nervous everyone else was as they were herded into the bunkers. Some part of her knew that she was being unfair, but she could smell the fear of her classmates. She wasn't sure if that was normal, or just another of the perks of being a magical girl that Kyuubey had forgotten to mention, but she found herself drifting away from the televisions and loudspeakers just to get away from it all.

Still, her ears were sharp enough to pick up the bits and pieces "invasion", "garrison", and other such things, which were… worrying.. It hadn't taken long for the bunkers to be forced open, and for the aliens to enter. They began to grab people and herd them outside of the bunker, and only bothering to put restraints on the teachers who attempted to resist.

They had eventually been brought outside of the city, where a great collection of buildings had been assembled. They had all been left in the buildings there, with the aliens setting up fences and walls outside of the encampment, and they left the captured humans to their own devices.

They had actually been left in somewhat comfortable conditions, they were given bunks that were somewhat firm, though not uncomfortably so (even if her standards were a bit looser than others, she hadn't felt much of a need to force her discomfort away from her body, and the most uncomfortable thing about this was the fact that they had all been shoved into a single, large room.

She… wasn't really sure what to think. She knew that she was being calmer than just about everyone else there, her fellow classmates being particularly… annoying in their speculation. She supposed that it didn't really help that they had covered Nazi Germany just last month in their history classes, and now they had found themselves being rounded up and shoved into camps, and so they had made the… obvious, conclusions. Well, those who hadn't just assumed that the aliens were trying to eat them or something.

She avoided the conversations of her fellow classmates, and found herself wishing that she knew where her parents were.

She hadn't really been able to relate to her fellow classmates for… years now, she supposed. Ever since she had first contracted. While she was just as unable to talk to her parents about being a magical girl as she was with her fellow classmates, at least she could talk to them about some things without finding herself getting annoyed at them being… stupid. The way that they talked to her after having learned that she had been held back from graduating didn't help. it wasn't like she was in a state to do schoolwork a few years back, and after getting cured she had a few more responsibilities than most kids her age, but that part wasn't really something she could tell them about, was it?

There were apparently other magical girls on the planet, but not only was she the oldest (at just past seventeen), but, well, she was the only one who lived in this city. She had never met another magical girl in her life, though Kyuubey had occasionally offered to put her in contact with others.

Really, she could handle the city on her own, and Kyuubey had even warned her that a lot of magical girl friendships tended to dissolve into rivalries over who got the Grief Seeds, so it was probably for the best that she was the only magical girl in town.

Kyuubey was normally right about these sorts of things.

I'm sorry that it took me so long to track where you had gone. A childlike voice spoke into her mind.

Her eyes shot around the room until she spotted the "speaker".

Kyuubey! You little fluffball, I was getting worried about you!

That was hardly necessary. You know that I am invisible to the eyes of most people. Regardless, the catlike creature leapt up to her bunk and sat in her lap, where she began stroking it between the ears. Yes, the bunks were public, but everyone else was too distracted with their own conversations to notice her stroking the air above her lap, and, frankly, if anyone was going look at her in a funny way during her reunion with the one person on the planet that could actually understand her, well, she didn't really give a damn what they thought.

Ah, well, I heard something about a few explosions, so I thought that maybe a few of them had gotten lucky or something. Besides, I wasn't sure about your ability to hide from... aliens.

The Turians are just as unable to perceive me as humans are, unless I want to be seen.

Erin frowned for a moment. Turians?

That is what these invaders call themselves, yes.

You, you know what they're called? A hint of anger and suspicion managing to sneak its way into her mental voice as she asked the question.

While we do not speak to them all that frequently, we are mutually aware of the other's existence. It paused for a moment, before seemingly realizing just what she might have found objectionable to its statement. We were looking towards your imminent contact with interest, though this particular scenario failed to fall within expected parameters.

She frowned at the thing in her lap. So, you hadn't thought they were going to invade? But why didn't you tell us that they existed?

It tilted its head at her. Their motivations for invading this planet are currently unknown, and we are pursuing our own channels in an attempt to understand what cause they have for invading the planet, and hopefully we would be able to mediate any conflict between your species without further bloodshed. Somehow its mental voice became mildly disapproving. Furthermore, I had brought up the existence of other species beforehand, when I mentioned that humanity would find itself in a greater galactic community eventually. Had you not been paying attention?

Ah, no, that just, slipped my mind. She forced her hands to continue rubbing the creature on her lap, and avoided scratching the back of her neck. Honestly, she spent a lot of time talking to Kyuubey, especially during any physics classes where, for some sort of magical familiar creature, Kyuubey seemed to have a thorough understanding of the concepts being discussed.

Everyone needed a hobby, she supposed.

When she convinced him to talk about the subject with her during class, well, her grades in physics were higher than in any other subject, up to the point where the possibility of scholarships had been raised (She had a bit of trouble in history, since her teacher seemed to think she was a class clown or delinquent or something after she had absentmindedly mentioned Joan de' Arc having been a magical girl. A long night of hunting didn't exactly lead to clear thinking in the morning). He mentioned so many things to her, many of which just slipped past her head, and she sometimes just… ignored him.  
Still, Kyuubey was a good sport about it.

So, you plan on talking to these aliens about having invaded the planet?

Once we've gathered more information, yes. She couldn't quite help but get that the Incubator was perfectly aware that she was changing the subject. Or maybe she was just imagining that. Kyuubey was weird, sometimes. With luck, we will be able to avert further conflict before the fleet from Earth arrives.

Erin straightened suddenly. Wait, the fleet's coming?

The Incubator tilted its head up at her. Of course. Earth already knows that the research fleet disappeared, and after Shanxi went dark, they knew that they had little choice but to mobilize their forces. Considering the distances involved and the somewhat unorganized nature of the alliance, we currently estimate that the arrival of the fleet will take little over a week.

Erin gave a soft grin. That's good to … A small flick of her palm that almost appeared to be an act of sleight of hand had her Soul Gem appear in it. The Incubator leaned in close enough to examine it.

Hm. It doesn't appear as if your Soul Gem is clean enough to survive for that long without being cleansed with a Grief Seed. Not only that, but you've failed to establish a stockpile for times such as these, and as such, it appears that you will have to go on a witch hunt soon.

Erin winced. Do you think these… Turians, do you think they'd let me just… wander off on my own for a while?

That is unlikely.. Sometimes, Erin found Kyuubey's tendency answer questions that she had meant to be rhetorical to be cute. This was not one of those times. However, we do believe that it should be well within your capabilities to escape captivity using your abilities.

But, they had patrols outside, and cameras… It had occurred to her, actually. Just garb up, slice her way through the wall, and make her way free. But, what would she actually do if she got out? Head back to her home, grab a handheld game or book, and just hang out until the fleet arrived? It was an option, but...

As they are unable to see me, it should be well within my abilities to get you through a window in their patrol routes.

Thanks, fluffball. She grinned, and scooped up the Incubator in her arms. Come on, we've got a witch to burn.

*****

With Kyuubey's help, it was actually pretty easy to sneak away.

Find a place to transform just outside of the cameras, and then move whenever he told her to, and she soon found herself on the outskirts of the city.  
While it was one of the largest settlements on the planet, looking at old pics of New York, she couldn't really help but feel that the massive number of quickly assembled buildings weren't really deserving of the title of city. Only the industrial structures topped three stories, and most of the rest were just rather samey houses.

Currently, she looked like, well, a fairly standard magical girl. White skirt with red trim, standard schoolgirl jacket of a type that she doubted anyone had actually worn to school for centuries, and a nice bow with a soul gem attached making her red hair into a ponytail.

Feeling the pull of her soul gem, she grinned. Looks like we found us a witch right off the bat.

On her shoulder, Kyuubey replied. It is hardly surprising. After the stresses of the invasion, witch activity has substantially increased. You might even be able to acquire several Grief Seeds during one night.

Nah, I don't want to get too greedy. Besides, who knows how good a check they keep on their camps? Better to just do this one hunt and get back quickly. She hesitated for a moment, her thoughts darting towards a different subject. While I'm gone, would you, would you mind tracking down my parents? I didn't see them in the camp we were sent to, but I think that there were several camps around the city. Would you mind checking those to see if they're okay?

The Incubator nodded. I can do that for you. Are you sure that you will not need my assistance?

Ah, of course not. I have more combat experience than the entire planetary garrison put together. I'll be fine.

Kyuubey nodded, and leapt off into the night. Very well.

*****

"It's just, look at these buildings. Do any of them look older than a few decades?"

The Turian Hierarchy's military was one of the most disciplined fighting forces known to galaxy.

Sarasi glanced back at the turian who'd just spoken. "Yes, Larir, we see that, but it might not mean anything. We know nothing about this species. For all we know, they have a proud cultural tradition of going after anything older than a century old with sledgehammers, just so that they could be in a state of constant urban renewal. I imagine that it gives them a pretty healthy economy, actually."

It should be noted that this discipline was more in a strategic sense, and during random patrols, particularly when in the "comfort" of a Turian APC (built with speed and durability in mind, to survive a fight just long enough to get to a safe place to dump its cargo, with rather less thought given to amenities), tended to be almost as prone to random chatter as the various other species. Especially since the few holdouts resisting the Turian forces seemed to be in an entirely different hemisphere. There had been a firefight yesterday, but none of those riding had even been within ten miles of that engagement.

Larir continued speaking. "Right, right, make with the jokes, but this has to be a new colony. There's no way that this was their homeworld."

"You know what, you're right. You should go report this higher up in the command chain. I hear the admiral has a little box just outside his door, and a little slot to stick paper in just waiting for intrepid soldiers to report their latest findings. It's labeled "The Incredibly Fucking Obvious," and it sounds like just the sort of place where you should stick it."

Larir frowned. "Right, I know it seems obvious, but if this is just a colony, then they probably have a larger fleet getting ready to hit back."

Sarasi sighed. "Then that's something for the fleets to worry about. Their shield technology is so primitive they only took one or two shots from our lighter ships to break, and they're so fresh into space it wouldn't surprise me if this was their very first colony. I really doubt that they have a whole fleet of significantly more advanced ships off by their homeworld or something."

Olihiek spoke up from the back of the vehicle. "Besides, from what my buddies up there told me", he tapped his knuckles on the roof of vehicle, "their fleet didn't stand a chance once our fleet started firing at them. They're barely at the eezo stage of development, and I doubt that whatever ships they have back at the homeworld are much better."

Larir frowned. "Still, I don't like it. Why wasn't this-"

" _Be advised, Sergeant Togriss, we have picked up a heat signature in your area. It looks like one of the natives. We picked up no traces of eezo, but not all of the local weaponry was eezo based, so keep your eyes open. We are updating your HUD with its last known location._ "

Sergent Togriss tapped the side of his helmet. "Confirmed command, will investigate, out." He glanced at his men, "Cut the chatter, this little patrol now has an actual objective, we are searching for a possible hostile, but more likely it's just some civilian who escaped the initial sweeps."

Sarasi shrugged. "At least it's something." All present began checking their weapons and their equipment. They had all checked it before they went on this mission, and it wasn't likely that they would actually need to use any of their kit, but certain things were just done, and it was better than twiddling  
their talons while the vehicle covered the two kilometers to their objective.

As they approached, Larir, who had been seated at the sensors, announced "Alright, I'm picking up a heat signature, hm, it's moving pretty quickly for a person, but that's what it's reading as."

Sergent Togriss nodded over to Sarasi, "Head them off and we'll get out and see if we can't convince whoever it is to come along peacefully." This would be easier if they had working translators, but at this point, the tech boys were still trying to write up programs for translating from Turian-to-Prothean-to-Unknown.

Besides, there were few messages that pointed gestures, hand movements, and occasional application of the shock prods couldn't communicate, although he hoped that that last one could be avoided for now.

Larir glanced at one of the screens that he had available. "Ah, they sees us. It's… damn, whoever it is out there is quick; they just leapt on top of that building, I didn't think they had biotics. Get us up there and let's see if we can't get them to come along peacefully." Sarasi triggered the jump jets on the APC, and the machine leapt up into the air, the eezo in the engine temporarily lightening the vehicle to the point where it could launch itself from the ground to the roof (as well as, incidentally, keeping it light enough during landing so as to not collapse the roof from its jets).

As they began to descend Larir shouted "-heat spike, jink jink!"

Sarasi tried to maneuver the APC away, but by choice or by design, the attack came just after the apex of the jump, when maneuverability was lowest.  
He saw a flash of red and grey strike towards the window, he instinctively held his arm up to block it, and-

*****

Larir groaned as he stood up from the flaming mess that was once their ride, and glanced about him. The front of the vehicle had a massive gash in it, with the edges appearing to have… melted. Glancing at his helmet, he saw that the rest of his squad still had positive life signs but- "Command, this is Private Larir, my squad was ambushed, we have" he winced as he looked at Sarasi's arm, several feet from his body, "-one casualty, but the rest of us should be ready to continue pursuit soon. Target has fled the area." That felt, sloppy, but then, he had hit his head during the… landing.

" _We are sending a gunship to provide overwatch and another APC to pick up the wounded. In the meantime, provide us with a sitrep._ "

He groaned and grabbed his head. "We pursued the unknown to a rooftop, unknown is not civilian, I repeat, not civilian, they possessed some sort of," at this point, he had the urge to try and make something up, to call whatever it had been some unknown energy weapon or something, but his training had been too thorough for that- always report exactly what you see, leave the speculation to command- "it looked to be a giant flaming sword, command."

A moment's silence on the other end. " _Repeat that last part, private._ "

"It looked to be a giant flaming curved sword. Heat signature was white on the infa-red. Whatever it was, it cut right through our kinetic barriers like they weren't even there. Our APC is… non salvageable."

" _… we'll check your suit's telemetry once you get back. Hold your position until your squad is back on their feet_." And his reward for his honesty was… skepticism.

"Ah, what's the situation?" And Togriss was conscious now.

"They're sending over a gunship to hunt down the insurgent, and an APC to pick us up."

"Hmph." He stood up and surveyed the area. "Keep an eye out in case our unknown decides to come around to finish us off. For all we know, their being so visible on the heat spectrum was just bait for a trap."

They heard a groan from the side, and Sarasi tried to get up. "Urgh, Sergent, I can't seem to get up, could one of you give me a hand?" He was trying to lift himself up with one arm, his stump waving ineffectually. It took a moment for him to glance to his side. "-oh. And I just said- heh." He paused. "Hey, Sarge, do you know if this suit's medical suite comes with painkillers, because I can't feel anything, and I can't tell if it's shock or drugs."

Togriss knelt by him, reaching into the pouch on his side and began to tie a tourniquet to the wound, "It's probably a bit of both, now stop moving and try to stay awake."

Olihiek spoke up, surprising all present with his consciousness. "I see a heat signature over in that factory complex over there. It looks like our target might be resting."

Togriss thought to himself for a moment. "It'll take a few minutes for the gunship to get here, and by then they could have escaped to whatever hidey hole they managed to use to avoid us in the first sweeps. Sarasi can hold his position, the rest of us are going to approach the building and wait for the gunship to arrive. I don't want to let this unknown get away. Move out, Olihiek, you got point. Sarasi, contact us if your helmet picks up anything new."  
The three of them moved out, leaving behind their wounded for the medics to pick up.

They moved cautiously, but apparently, whoever it was in that building wasn't keeping an eye out for followers, as they detected no signs that they had been spotted, and the target appeared to be content to wait in the building.

They reached the roof of structure just three buildings away. "If there's any movement, our sensors should pick it up." Togriss spoke to his squad. "We're waiting here for the gunship."

They… waited. They wanted to keep radio communications to a minimum, which meant helmet communication was out, and they wanted to minimize noise, which meant that simply talking to each other was not an option. They might have checked their weapons a bit more thoroughly than the situation warranted, even if their vehicle had been destroyed with them in it, but if his squad checking their weapons meant that they weren't focusing on the fact that their assailant could realize their presence at any moment and shoot another… whatever the hell that thing was… at them, Togriss wasn't going to object.

Olihiek glanced into his armband. "Just received a narrow band textual transmission, looks like another patrol has already picked up Sarasi, and their medic is saying that he's going to be alright." Some of the tension bled from the squad. "Our gunship's ETA is about, now, looks like."

From the clouds emerged a single ship, its searchlights dancing around the building.

"Any idea why it's making its presence so obvious?" Laril asked.

"I think… the pilot's trying to bait whoever it is into launching an ambush."Togriss watched the ship. "It's flying low, but not lot enough that it wouldn't have time to launch flares and trigger the ECM."

Olihiek pulled out his rifle, using the scope to search the building. "I see movement inside, it's heading towards the side of the building that our air support is on. Flagging and transmitting."

Inside the gunship, the pilot flagged his acknowledgement of the new information that had been sent to him, moving his gunship slightly away from the building and orienting the nose towards the spot where Olihiek had spotted the target.

" _I still don't have a clear shot at the target, and Command would prefer if we were to take the unknown weapon in for analysis, so I can't just shoot through the wall, wait, there's bit of heat moving up the stairs, it looks like the target is heading towards the roof_."

"Alright, I have a clear shot at the roof exit, see if you can keep on luring them out until I get a clear shot."

" _Will do._ "

He watched the door from his perch, just waiting for it to creep open and give him a clear shot-

The door ripped open, and someone darted through it, a single sweep of her arm launching a curved blade out towards the helicopter. The pilot tried to maneuver out of the way, but the blade curved in midair, igniting itself in brilliant flames, and in the heat of the moment, Olihiek noted that there was steam coming up from where the rain fell to the blade.

"Launching flares and- the missile is ignoring the flares, I repeat, it is ignoring the flares, dodging dodging" the blade kept to its target, and the gunship was sliced in half as the sword ascended to its target. Olihiek, cursing his brief lack of discipline in tracking the weapon rather than the shooter, turned his scope lower, sighting- He paused, hesitating, as he looked at the shooter's eyes as she, and it was a she, he could see that now, watched the descent of the vehicle in… horror? As it crashed down in flames into some of the buildings, he saw the face of Nalian, his blueskinned niece.

Shaking off the mental image, he looked into the scope, and the target was moving (so damned fast) he shifted aim, pulled, and was rewarded with a burst of blood coming from the shoulder. "Target is wounded, pursue!" Came the voice of Togriss, snapping him from his surprise.

The three leapt from the roof, their suits helping to reduce the impact from the fall, and rushed to the building, hoping speed would get them past the unknown weapon. They burst down the factory door, charging into the building. "Target was last seen on the roof, go go go!" As they reached the second floor, a blade emerged from the ceiling, stabbing downwards and striking the shoulder of Larir, his shout of agony nearly making his fellows hesitate as they continued to move upwards, with Togriss blasting his shotgun above him in the hopes of preventing another attack.

They saw a door on the third floor, and their HUDs informed them that that area was directly above where they had been ambushed. Togriss leaned his shoulder in and slammed against the door in his armored bulk, breaking the door. Inside they saw-

A girl, but Togriss was more concerned with the small black orb that she held in her hands.

His instincts screamed grenade as he charged forward, ignoring the hand that was trying to pull him back-

****  
 _One minute ago_

Erin huddled in the corner, looking at her rapidly darkening Grief Seed, and silently thanked Kyuubey for the fact that her body felt pain only in a dull sense.

You're welcome.

From a window, there stared two red eyes.

Kyuubey, can you- she wanted to ask him to come up with some way for her to escape, but she was hurt. Hurt from the battle with the Witch (who had managed to escape), hurt from shot to the elbow, and-

 _The chopper fell, screaming, the flames engulfed the building-_

She shuddered. She hadn't meant to pick a fight, but when that vehicle showed up, she had just, panicked. She threw the sword based on pure instinct, instinct that had been born from years of fighting within labyrinths, not... well, not the actual city.

She had wanted to rest, to run, but they were following her, and she could hear the roaring of the flames below, and the scream of pain from the alien she had impaled below sounded so human, she…

She couldn't run. She wasn't healthy enough to run.

I tracked down your parents. Kyuubey interrupted her thoughts.

Ah? How are they? They would never even know, never even understand-

They were killed yesterday. It tilted its head at her.

Wha- what?

As it turns out, someone else attempted to fight against the invaders, and most eezo based weapons have remarkable penetrative abilities. Several buildings were pierced through and the stray shots from those individuals attempting to fight back managed to kill your parents.

No…

When she had fought back, she had never even though about collateral, never even, it wasn't her but it could have been-

 _The flames were approaching, she could hear the screams, she couldn't do anything she was stuck_ -

Her gaze fell to the window, lingering at the orange flickering.

The door slammed open, and she saw one of the Turians charging in, his taloned arm outstretched, her Soul Gem was somehow in her hand and it was black-

A/N

Hello, and welcome to the story.

Couple important notes:

I do hope to make this story accessible to people from both sides of the crossover, since, well, I really don't know how many people reading this are fans of both series instead of just one or the other. I've tried to do this, but I'm not sure how well I succeeded, so let me know if there's any confusion and I'll try to clear things up and include further descriptions in the story itself.

Also, I hope to make all factions at least somewhat sympathetic, and there are protagonists on both the human and alien sides. Just putting that out there.

For the PMMM fans: Madoka never became a goddess in this AU. There's a story behind that, but it's mostly relevant for the sequel, and so will be ignored here.

Thank you, and I hope you'll all enjoy what's to come.


	2. Chapter 2

_Civilian Camp 4: 12:36 PM_

Gahlan idly adjusted his armor.

Another day of standing out there in the sun, walking along the fence, watching over the natives for any suspicious activity (though, as a totally alien race, he wasn't sure what exactly constituted suspicious behavior), or breaking up fights. He didn't know why the people on this planet were so willing to fight each other when they were all imprisoned, he assumed that they did so just to give him something to do.

Or maybe he'd have another shift of showing pictures to the natives of prisoners in other camps, and trying to figure out if their alien facial expressions indicated that the pictured person was a family member or a close friend, so that their families could be properly reunited.

Of course, since somehow this camp had a disproportionate number of kids, most of them looked downwards or to the sides instead of at the screens, or seemed to spend the entire time terrified. He couldn't think of a better way to reunite families, but he was pretty sure that most of the kids that he had "interviewed" had assumed that he was trying to root out the identities of insurgents, and seemed to be trying to guard their facial expressions. Or they just sat there crying no matter how many pictures he put in front of their face.

He'd even tried to pat the shoulder of one of the younger ones, only for the little savage to try biting his arm. He would have been amused if it had gotten the brat sick due to the whole "dextro-levo" thing, but apparently that required actual ingestion, and he wasn't about to let his arm get gnawed off out of spite.

Or risk a kid breaking their teeth on his arm.

He hoped that they could get a translator up and running soon. Maybe let all these people know that they could get to their houses and do whatever the hell it was that they used to before they were invaded as soon as their army stopped hiding in the cities so that the Turian military could properly finish them off.

They weren't even sure what the name the species called themselves, as the linguists pointing at themselves, various objects, and the natives themselves, seemed to get inconsistent results.

Possible names for their species included A _mericans, Russians, Humans, Whatareyougoingtodotomes_ , and _Japanese_ , depending on which camp's reports were taken seriously.

It didn't help that apparently, they had lost a prisoner. He wasn't sure when it happened, but suddenly; one of their counts had failed to pick up the full two thousand and eight hundred and thirty six prisoners.

Some thorough searching through video logs indicated only one person that had been in the camp that suddenly wasn't, and on what was apparently a whim, they showed the picture of that person to the only survivor of that fuck up in the industrial district, and it turns out that, yes, the escaped prisoner was apparently the same person as the one who shot down a gunship.

Gahlan had been feeling pretty confident about his posting, or at least he had assumed that whatever threats he would be facing would come from outside the walls. Apparently the natives had hidden at least one commando that could move like an Asari Matriarch among their schoolchildren just to fuck around with any invaders, and suddenly his job seemed rather less safe.

Still, other than a few idiots that had tried charging him with their bare hands, and who were apparently not dedicated enough to fight through getting whacked with a shock prod, things had actually been pretty dull.

He wasn't complaining.

He continued to follow his patrol route, until a glance off to the side revealed, a quick count put the number at thirty six of the natives just standing by the fence.

Just standing there. Staring out at the outside world. Even some of the other natives seemed to be watching them with confusion.

That… probably constituted some of the suspicious behavior that he was supposed to be look out for. Especially since none of them seemed to have any connecting characteristics. They seemed to have different ethnicities (he'd been trained into spotting the differences that they suspected might indicate different origins and potentially cultures), there were elderly people along with a few children, and they were all, just, standing there.

Approaching quietly, he tried to glance through the fence to see if there was anything interesting that they were looking at, but no, there was nothing. They weren't even staring out into the city, since this side of the camp faced out into the grasslands.

"So, you know that staring at it won't make it go away, right?" Gahlan asked, as much to announce his presence as to provoke a response. Keep calm, don't yell, and talk in a friendly voice, his orders said. It didn't matter what you said otherwise, just try not to do anything to make them feel threatened. Well, they were also supposed to avoid saying anything too stupid or offensive, since their helmets were recording all interactions with the prisoners.

He frowned as they completely failed to respond to his statement. He knew that they had to know that he wasn't a fellow prisoner, since not only was his language different, but his voice was very distinctly turian. There were continued murmurings from behind him as the other prisoners were apparently just as confused as he was.

At this point, in what he got the distinct feeling wasn't a response to anything that he had done, every one of those humans raised their hands up by their hands.

Alright, it's starting to get a little creepy here. "You, uh, you do know that the fence is electric, right? It's not going to not shock you if you all get on it at once."

As one, they reached their arms out and grasped the fence.

"Oh fuck!" At that, Galhad charged to the one closest to him, who happened to be a large male, and tried to yank him away from the fence, his insulated armor protecting him from the shock.

His hands are locked to the damn fence! He kept on pulling, but his armor lacked the powered aspect that many of the other soldiers preferred, and he was left with all the force he could muster. He could feel hands grabbing him from behind, and for a moment he was prepared to slam his elbow back at whatever idiot was trying to pull him away from the fence, but then the panicked screams from the crowd behind him made him realize that whoever was grabbing him was probably trying to help him.

Another five fingered hand descended to his waist, grabbing his baton, and before Galhad could respond, the man behind him began to slam it into the fingers of the man locked to the fence.

With a cracking noise, the fingers broke, and the man fell back into Galhad's arms.

He shoved the man away, distantly hearing another turian voice demanding that the fence be turned off as he grasped another person, this one an elderly lady. Even as he pulled, he could hear the buzzing of the fences die, and his grip slipped as he fell backwards.

His gaze fell to the right, where whoever it had been grabbing him had one hand on the neck of the man that they had pulled away, before the stranger shook his head and leaned back.

He looked to the fence again, and despite the fact that the electricity had turned off, every last one of those people still had their hands locked on the fence, the only difference being their bending of the knees and the tilt of their heads.

Listening to the screaming behind him, he distantly realized that the only sound that he had heard had come from the crowd behind him, while the… victims? The victims remained utterly silent.

****

 _Medical Tent: 9:56 PM, The Same Day_

So far, there had been little need to actually use the medical facilities. There had been surprisingly few wounded during the occupation, and Dr. Ihlen had actually needed to treat more of the natives than turian wounded, to the point where he was worried that he might have to ask the troops to go raid the nearby hospitals in order to get more levo medical supplies.

He didn't know that much of their physiology, and anything more complicated than a broken bone required that he have VIs project any possible circumstances that might be causing this condition, as well as possible fixes, and then he had to select the option that was least likely to cause more damage than it fixed.

It felt uncomfortably like guess work to a man of his experience, but he hadn't had any of his patients die on him yet, so that was likely something in his favor. Having a few more actual xenobiologists on hand would have been appreciated, but moving public figures around like that was apparently fairly difficult.

And now he had on his slab what would have been a confusing medical mystery in a turian body, let alone a species that he had only had days to begin evaluating. He wasn't even a specialist in forensics, but he'd been drafted into the role, with his only complaint being that he would really rather have a specialist working on this case.

Everyone here had their duty, after all, even if he felt it unlikely he would be able to fulfil this one.

"While there is a great deal that I don't know about this species", and it pained him to admit that, "I must admit that I can find nothing that would explain the deaths of these people."

"Couldn't the shock have simply disrupted their nervous system?"

General Desano Aterius, on the other hand, just wanted to understand what the hell was going on, and if there existed the possibility that something in what had occurred that would threaten his soldiers. Admittedly, it didn't seem like a suicide death cult could actually pose a threat to his soldiers, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

"No, from what I've seen, I believe their nervous systems to be more robust than that; I've treated enough accidents involving people acting like idiots around the fences to know that they should have been able to survive more than what the fences are designed to administer. I do, however, have another question. My report says that these thirty six were assigned to the same bunkhouse, true?"

Desano nodded. "That is correct."

"Were they assigned to the same bunkhouse for any particular reason, or were they assigned randomly?"

"Other than two family units, we assigned them randomly. To my knowledge, they should have had no connections to each other apart from their assigned sleeping quarters."

"Well, if you would take a look at this body-" he lifted one of the cadavers and put it face a gauntleted hand to the neck, he began to push down in small circles as he moved his hand across the back of the corpse's neck.

"We nearly missed this, but we had programmed our VIs for hypersensitivity when it came to detecting patterns." As he moved his hand across the neck, the skin changed colors, slightly. When the hand reached the point just near the shoulderblade, the exact tone of the color changed to an almost imperceptible degree.

"It's more clear when the blood in the veins was somewhat fresher, but it almost seemed as if there was an indentation on their necks when pressure was applied, where blood flowed differently here than it did elsewhere. After we forced the heart to beat, making the blood flow throughout the body again, we applied the exact same amount of pressure evenly on the area with the anomaly."

Aterius leaned in to examine the picture.

It was… subtle, in terms of coloration, but it looked like there was a shape on the neck of the body, in the form of a stylized flame.

"Was this present on all the bodies?" Aterius asked.

Ihlen paused for a moment. "We've only managed to test six so far, and it was present on all bodies. We also tested the bodies of some of the dead native soldiers, as well as trying to subtly test any of the civilian prisoners, and found nothing. We even attempted to administer slight electric shocks to the corpses, to see if that triggered anyting." Aterius frowned at that, but allowed Ihlen to continue. "We found nothing resembling the symbol on anyone other than these six. We also found no actual cause for the symbol, biologically speaking."

General Desolas frowned, glancing at a datapad and reading it through.

A large number of people had died from causes that they shouldn't have died from, in a fortified camp, with the randomly assigned prisoners apparently having the same symbol that didn't seem to exist anywhere else on the planet and would likely take sophisticated medical equipment to generate.

When the truth of what the turians were trying to do eventually reached the Council, how in the hell were they going to explain this, when the most plausible explanation being thrown around involved a bizarre but highly sophisticated mass suicide cult capable of outwitting the Hierarchy's finest?

And they didn't even have a way of knowing if the suicidal people were associated with that bizarre commando ambush, though that was a common assumption.

"I'll send this symbol out to the soldiers, tell them to keep an eye out for anything resembling it. Continue your research, but don't do any research on the prisoners, they're already jumpy enough as it is. We'll try showing the symbol to some of the prisoners, to see if it gets any reaction."

Somehow, the General doubted that this would be the last mystery to be dropped on his desk before this occupation was over.

******

Jerry stared into the mirror, gazing at his scraggly red beard.

He had always been clean shaven.

He shaved once during the morning and once at night.

Ever since those first few follicles of hair had appeared on his chin, he had demanded a razor and set to work.

It was to the point of a running joke in the family.

And now he had a beard.

They didn't have razor blades in the camp. He wasn't sure if the aliens were just being overly cautious, or if it had honestly never occurred to them that humans might need to trim their hair.

The point was, well, it itched. He couldn't sleep, his beard itched, he had nothing to do, and he was pretty sure that he'd seen a kid flinch just after looking at his ill-kempt appearance. He could barely even sleep with the damned thing.

He didn't know if the aliens what the aliens were planning, it they were going to release his fellows, if they would be forced to do manual labor, or if the aliens were just waiting to line them all up against a wall and shoot them.

For now, however, that didn't matter.

He had a plan.

He knew that what he was thinking was stupid.

He knew that it might end up with him dying, but none of that mattered to him.

He took off his shirt, carefully wrapping it around his hand.

He was aware that there were other people present in what he thought of as the "Grooming Station". They saw his hard face, his calloused hands, and his scarred chest, and they were nervous.

They could tell that he was planning something.

He wasn't sure if they were scared of him, of what he was planning to do, or what his actions might cause in the way of repercussions, but he wasn't in the mood to waste time trying to figure out what they were thinking.

His arm wrapped in his shirt, he pulled it back, looked at the glass of the mirror, and let his fist fly.

The glass shattered, and he took a moment to thank the fact that his shirt had been thick in its weave, as his fist had only been scraped during the breaking of the glass.

He ignored a few panicked shouts as he glanced at the shards of glass, before he selected one that seemed appropriate to his needs. He could already hear the footsteps of the armored aliens pounding on the ground behind him as he turned to look at them. He was actually impressed by their response time.

There were four of them present, and as he was clearly the most suspicious person there, with his bloodied hand in his shirt, they all faced him, though he took a moment to note that their guns were still pointed towards the ground, their fingers resting on the trigger guards.

He watched them, and they watched him. The one in the lead asked a question in a voice that seemed oddly unbothered by the glass and the blood, making a vague gesture towards Jerry's hand, gently holding that shard of glass.

Jerry slowly brought the shard of glass to his throat, and the guns leapt up, the alien in the lead extending an arm out to him and saying something that he had probably intended to sound soothing, but that metallic effect when the aliens spoke still grated on his ears.

His hand began to move and-

Cut.

The lead alien watched as the hair gently fell to the ground.

Jerry began to move the glass shard around his face, idly wishing that he had an extra mirror, so that he could watch what he was doing.  
The alien in the lead stared for a moment, and then he chuckled, saying something that ended with his soldiers lowering their guns.  
Two days later, shaving kits that had apparently been gathered from the various homes were placed in the restrooms.

****

Turian Field Camp: Briefing Room

While Ari Cascaus was far too professional to lean back and sigh, the urge was certainly present.

General Desolas stood at the front of the room, gesturing to the projections on the wall.

"Three days ago, one of our patrols pursued what was believed to be a straggler who had managed to evade our previous patrols. This turned out to not be the case. They were ambushed by what we believe to be some sort of guerilla commando with abilities and equipment substantially beyond anything else we've seen on this planet, and a single shot from an unknown weapon managed to cripple their vehicle."  
The projected image flickered, and there was a ruined vehicle. "From what we've been able to determine from the wreck, it does appear that there was both a kinetic and thermal component to the attack. The exact mechanics of the device are unknown, as its apparent ability to ignore flares, ECM and at least partially ignore kinetic barriers, with little to no time to lock on to a target. We have recovered no traces of exotic matter, and the target appeared to have no element zero based technology, which we now believe was deliberate on her part, as an effort to convince the patrol to lower their guard."

"As it stands, we have no knowledge of what happened to the soldiers who pursued her, as we have found no bodies or even major signs of struggle at the last point of contact."

Ari knew that the general himself wouldn't be giving this report if all he had to talk about was the fact that they knew jack and shit about what the hell was going on, and that this was just the prelude to the next subject. It was probably just an attempt to quell all the rumors that had been going on, (and her being a squad leader, she was privy to the rumors being spread by both the officers and the grunts, and there wasn't much substance to any of it, from what she could tell).

"Moving on," at this Ari sat up a bit straighter, though she'd likely have words with anyone who suggested that she had been slouching, "going over the maps of the area that we've uncovered, some of the analysts are of the opinion that we missed some evacuation centers during our initial sweep of this city."

The projection shifted, and a map of several of the alien cities appeared on the screen. "Overlaying a grid pattern on the map, they've noticed that, consistently, that they had constructed their cities in a fashion that has a single shelter at roughly the center point of each grid square. This pattern exists in every city on the planet." The image shifted, and red spots emerged at about the center point of each grid, excepting that of a few areas that she vaguely remembered had been tentatively labeled administrative zones.

Those grids without the red dots were then turned yellow.

"While our initial patrols failed to notice shelters at these locations, I had initially ordered patrols to search for the signs that we had come to recognize from the outlying areas. As such, our patrols were not looking for the traces of evacuation as thoroughly they could have been. We were prioritizing the tracking of military targets at the time, but now that the native resistance seems to have lowered the frequency of their attacks, we are now free to more closely investigate those areas."

Looking at the map, Ari glanced at one of the yellowed grids, noticing that it was rather close to- "As you can see, this particular section is close to where the squad led by Togriss was last heard from. As the Unknown Insurgent," at some point that phrasestarted to be pronounced in capitals, seeing as to how they lacked a better term for the girl, "is believed to still be in the area somewhere, though we have found no traces of her in our patrols. There is the possibility that she has gone to ground in one of these suspected bunkers. Furthermore, we suspect that the bunkers that were not clearly marked might in fact be designated for military personnel, so extreme caution is to be used when we are evacuating them."

"We suspect that sending caravans to evacuate them might just prompt the guerilla forces to take action. Multiple gunships will be prepped and ready to deploy to the area, with two more patrolling these areas." Two black lines appeared on the screen, the lines were between were either between the grids or neighboring them, just far enough that they would be out of casual visual range.

All present knew what he was implicitly suggesting, of course.

The patrols were to be bait in addition to actually searching for the shelter.

Ari didn't feel that there was that much of a risk, the Unknown Insurgent only really succeeded due to the surprise factor, and they weren't going to fall for the trap of a lack of element zero again. Reports indicated that she was fast, but the Turian Hierarchy trained its people to deal with fast.

Still, she supposed that, even if there wasn't as much risk as the job implied, being sent out to serve as bait probably did warrant the General showing up to see them out personally.

"Once you get your squads to your vehicles, I will be assigning patrol routes directly to your helmets. Dismissed, all."

****

 _Civilian Camp 9_  
Considering that her world had been invaded, and considering that all the people in her shelter had been dragged out, escorted into vehicles, and brought to camps outside the city, she knew that having such thoughts was inappropriate, but, well…

Shiori was bored.

There was nothing to do.

They hadn't been allowed electronics, so she couldn't read her books, she only knew one person in the camp that was her age, and even the aliens looked as if they were tired of looking over them.

She brought the razor to her hair and watched as her black tresses fell to the ground. She was sure that her parents would disapprove of her cutting her hair just for lack of anything better to do, but they weren't here at the moment.

She heard a bell ring, but she ignored it, focusing on how her hair looked.

It wasn't quite as even as she had been hoping for but…

She kinda liked it.

She wouldn't have been able to do this if it hadn't been for the crazy man with the mirror. At a guess, she figured that weird bird aliens probably hadn't even realized that humans needed to cut their hair. The best equivalent they would have would probably be a can of paint for those weird facial markings. Or maybe they were like tattoos and they didn't need to reapply them?

As details go, it was rather irrelevant, but…

She was curious now.

There was a knock on the wall.

"Shiori? Are you okay?" The voice of Amy's mom called out.

"Yes, I'll be out to eat soon." She sighed. Her first ever sleep over had gotten her assigned to a camp away from her parents. She knew it was stupid of her to take it out on Amy's parents, but, well…

They were annoying, boring, prying people, and they kept on trying to keep an eye on her and Amy and it was just so…

She knew they were trying to protect her. Or maybe it was just them trying to cope with all this in their own way. She knew she was being petty, and that just made her more irritated and petty.

She shook her head and exited the grooming area, making her way to the tables where the aliens had shown up.

There was a buffet where they could get their food, and long tables where various groups were huddled up. There was scattered conversation, but, mostly people were keeping to themselves.

She wondered if that was because they didn't know anybody, or if it was just the situation in general that made them act that way.

The meal was… quiet.

Amy's mom had already brought up their schooling, and her parents had talked to each other about their jobs, but there weren't really any new developments. Any attempt on Shiori's part to talk about the aliens lead to long awkward pauses in the conversation, despite the fact that they were really the only thing worth talking about recently.

Also, it was kind of an important subject.

The food was bland, but filling. What looked to be vaguely like beans, some plants, somewhat chicken like meat, it was… boring.  
She excused herself after finishing her meal, as there wasn't any talking going on anyway, and went back to her bunk.

She lay back on bunk, almost wishing that something exciting would happen.

Under the circumstances, something exciting probably be a Bad Thing, but, well, she wasn't sure how much longer she could take this.

Hello there. She blinked, glancing around the room, and stared into two small red eyes. I felt your wish, and I wanted to discuss the possibilities with you.


End file.
